


Haven

by darthmelyanna, miera



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Renaissance, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-19
Updated: 2007-02-22
Packaged: 2019-02-06 20:26:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12825411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darthmelyanna/pseuds/darthmelyanna, https://archiveofourown.org/users/miera/pseuds/miera
Summary: A storm, an attack and a rescue alter young Princess Elizabeth's perceptions irrevocably. Set two years prior to "Ascension of the Queen."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Again, blame this one all on me. Though, other than a blink-and-miss-it bit of UST, there's nothing here to get in a twist over. :)

Princess Elizabeth allowed her cloak to fall open a little more, breathing deep the salty air as she walked to the stables. The winter had been long and dark and had refused to relinquish its hold on Atalan until very late. The lingering months of spring had seen heavy rains and great winds that had lashed the trees, churning the blue waters surrounding Atlantis to gray and white.

In these past weeks, though, warm weather had finally arrived. The sun shone brightly through the days, coaxing green shoots from the earth and the trees. This morning was not so bright, it was true, as dark clouds already gathered on the western horizon. The sun had not yet disappeared, though, and Elizabeth had no intention of wasting her morning, especially since the thin bridge of land that connected the sanctuary of Atlantis with the mainland was safe to travel. When the storms had receded several weeks ago, she had insisted on taking her daily ride across the bridge and into the forests along the shore. Now she found herself restless and irritable if she was not able to fly across the thin isthmus, water on either side and the ocean breeze slapping in her face.

The sense of an approaching storm only heightened her desire for swift motion.

Sir Marshall Sumner was in the stables, observing as Lorne and Bates prepared the guard to accompany her. The older man's disapproval was palpable, though Elizabeth thought wryly that it would be difficult for a stranger to recognize the difference between his usual expression and this one. "Captain," she nodded in greeting. "How is your arm this morning?"

Sumner ordinarily went with her everywhere, but three days ago it had rained and on Elizabeth's last morning ride, his horse had struck a loose patch of ground and thrown him in attempting to stay upright. Dr. Beckett had immobilized the broken arm and done his best to alleviate the pain, but it would be some weeks before the captain of her guard was able to ride again.

The captain grunted at her in response to her teasing and fixed his eyes on the guardsmen. "You know what will befall you if the princess returns with the slightest hair out of place."

The men nodded dutifully, but Elizabeth laughed. The wind blowing her hair out of place was exactly what she wanted.

***

Taking pity on Lorne and Bates, who were inordinately nervous in the absence of Sumner, Elizabeth slowed her horse down once they reached the mainland. Instead of heading into the trees she took the easy road near the shoreline at a gentle pace.

The long, stormy winter had provided her ample opportunity to think about her future. Simon's abrupt death on their wedding day and her subsequent illness had changed her perspective irrevocably. Lord George had pushed for her marriage to protect her life and her claim to the throne, and she was grateful for his efforts. Still, she wondered if her guardian understood what the marriage would have meant for her.

Simon would have become her whole world. He had been so much older than she that she would have relied on his judgment almost exclusively. She trusted Lord George and valued his wisdom, but Simon would not have been a father-figure, grooming her now that he might step aside when she ascended to the throne.

In her memory, the wedding felt like a particularly vivid dream. What would her life have been on this spring morning had Simon not been killed? She most likely would have been with child, assuming that her own bloodlines' weakness had not prevented it.

She frowned at the thought. Some small part of her that she buried deep within felt a lingering sense of relief that she had not had to share her bed with Simon. He had not been unpleasant to look at, but the large difference in their ages had left her feeling faintly nauseated every time the thought of the wedding night had occurred to her. Laura, in her usual manner, had said much on the subject during the course of the winter months. It was hopeless, she declared, to find any happiness in marriage if the woman felt absolutely no desire for her husband. Without some sort of mutual attraction, they could not survive living side by side for the rest of their lives.

Laura had then insisted she would not marry any man unless he could have enticed her into bed without a wedding ring. Elizabeth had laughed, but Kate had blushed and said nothing. Kate was slightly older than Elizabeth, and being a trusted servant of the future queen only added to the beautiful young lady's appeal to the men of the court. But it was difficult to envision any of them as staid, settled wives and mothers yet.

Kate and Laura, of course, were unburdened in their choice of husband by the approval or disapproval of the entire college of lords and the unofficial opinions of the entire nobility of Atalan. Not to mention that any suitor of theirs would not need to fear for his life just by courting them.

Elizabeth urged her horse to a slightly faster speed. Carson Beckett and Hermoid had reluctantly told her the details of the poison that had been used to kill Simon, over Lord George and Daniel's objections. They had no way of knowing who had arranged for the poison that had laced the food for the wedding party. Sir Marshall had quietly purged the household staff during the winter months, but no evidence had linked the act with any particular person.

She knew full well that the men who protected her believed Lord Robert Kinsey, the current regent, was behind the assassination attempt. Elizabeth had no difficulty believing Lord Robert would be driven to desperate measures to maintain control of Atalan, but the lack of proof worried her.

In the meantime, Elizabeth's guilt over Simon's death made her vow not to willingly endanger another man, no matter how she might feel for him. She would not marry until after she reached the throne. There would always be dangers for her and for the people around her, but she had too much to do for now. She was not ready to bear a child. She had not been ready to be a wife. She was still not ready to be the queen, and her time was running short.

The one bright spot in the winter months had been Carson Beckett. The young physician was a man of boundless energy. He shuttled from Atlantis to the Asgard sanctuary as often as the weather permitted. It had become customary for Carson to dine with her, Lord George, Daniel, Laura and Kate in the evenings he was in the palace. Daniel appeared to like the younger man a great deal and they often got lost in discussions about ideas that flew far over Elizabeth's head. Laura and Kate seemed to have no objections to staring at Carson for an hour every day either. Laura flirted boldly with the doctor, to his seeming consternation. Elizabeth had noted that Kate spent a great deal of time conversing with the handsome young doctor as well, though their conversations ran to more serious subjects.

But to Elizabeth, Carson Beckett was something else. She felt a fondness for him, something akin to her feelings for Lorne, Bates and some of the other guardsmen, but it was difficult to feel genuinely close to men whose purpose in life was to stand between her and any danger that presented itself.

Carson, she realized, was a friend. Though he was never disrespectful of the difference in their stations in life, when he spoke to her, it was not as a princess or a future ruler, but simply as another person. Elizabeth had been surrounded by people her whole life and yet had no idea how starved she was for that kind of companionship. Listening to Carson talk about his homeland, his travels and his work, had felt like opening a window into a previously unknown world.

During the winter she had spent countless hours in the great library of Atlantis, reading books on subjects she had never thought to pursue before, such as medicine and histories of scientific discoveries. She had been thoroughly schooled in history, geography, literature, writing, the basic sciences and art. Her guardians had considered her education complete, but Elizabeth knew better now. For all their desire to shield her, she knew that Atalan was not faring well. There was much danger, and much work to be done to restore the realm from the damages wrought during her father's time. The queen faced with that task could not simply be _adequately_ prepared.

She paused her horse at the customary point, where the shore road curved along a promontory. To her right in the distance were the spires of the city, with the center tower of the palace looking small from here. To the left the shoreline stretched, trees edging close to the rolling blue waves. And before her was open water.

Elizabeth allowed the strong breeze to blow against her face, not caring that it turned her cheeks pink and her lips chapped. She drew strength from the wind, and with her resolutions firmly in place, turned her horse onto the road once more. She followed the trail into the trees and back towards Atlantis, it being shorter than the shore path.

***

The rest of the guard found his tendency for alarm humorous, but Bates trusted his own instincts. They had kept him alive so far and placed him second in command to the captain of the royal guard. So when his stomach began to clench nervously at the sudden silence as they rode through the woods, he reached for his sword immediately.

Arrows shot out of the leaf-covered brush to their left. He roared out commands as there were corresponding yells from both sides. There was a clattering of armor, the sound of hooves, and several men – were they even men? – appeared suddenly out of the trees.

Three horses shot away up the road as Bates swung his sword into the chest of the nearest man and the fight began.

***

Elizabeth clung to the reins, guiding her horse at a break-neck pace down the road on pure instinct. There was no time to think. Bates had drawn his sword, yelling, and in the confusion she caught a glimpse of _something_ coming out of the bushes. Then Lorne had slapped her horse with his own reins and the two of them had raced off away from the ensuing battle. Young Markham went before them, weapon drawn. The men appeared to have arranged this response in advance. Elizabeth rather wished they had seen fit to explain it to her.

Now she ducked low over the horse's neck and just hung on as they surged down the twisting road through the forest. The sun had been swallowed by swiftly-moving clouds, creating shadows in the trees that unnerved her.

No one was behind them.

Before she could consider the implications, an obstacle appeared in the path as they rounded a bend and her horse swerved wildly to avoid colliding with Markham's. The animal lost its footing and abruptly she was falling sideways. With little time to react, Elizabeth threw herself outward, just barely gaining enough distance that her leg was not crushed.

She landed in the dirt, shredding skin from her palms. Markham was still fighting to control his horse, but Lorne was also unseated, falling to the ground not far from Elizabeth.

The fall saved Lorne's life. Elizabeth watched in frozen horror as a small dagger flew from some hidden place and buried itself in Markham's chest. Sheer shock was the only thing that prevented her from screaming.

Three large men appeared from the trees, wearing strange masks and hardened leather clothing over their upper bodies. The broken wagon across the road had been a ruse, she realized belatedly. They were trapped.

Lorne surged forward, his sword already in motion. Even as he twisted to get closer to Elizabeth, he cut into the legs of the nearest man, who let out a piercing shriek. She scrambled in Lorne's direction and then her heart seized as she felt an arm wrap around her, pinning her against a strange body. Her legs flailed, attempting to bring her feet into contact with a knee or a shin.

Lorne was on his feet now, roaring in anger and fighting with a man nearly half-again as tall as he. The man carried some sort of heavy axe, but Lorne's sword was longer and deadlier. The guardsman cut at his attacker repeatedly. Even as Elizabeth struggled, she watched Lorne spin and sever the man's arm.

The howls of pain and the sight of the gushing blood snapped something within Elizabeth. She bit down on the arm of the man attempting to drag her into the trees. He shook her but she could not have forced her own jaw open had she desired to. Her teeth continued to sink mercilessly into flesh until the man released her, so abruptly that she staggered and fell to the ground.

Lorne's defeat of the one man had cost him several blows, including a cut on his head. Half-blinded, he stumbled too close to the first man, who still held his sword. The blade plunged into Lorne's side.

Elizabeth found her voice at last. She screamed as she watched Lorne fall.

She heard movement behind her and turned to see the final attacker advancing on her, blood flowing from his arm from where she had bitten him. Swallowing against the strange taste in her mouth, she attempted to flee but her gown hindered her movements across the rough ground and she stumbled.

A soft sound heralded the dagger's flight as it struck her attacker in the stomach. He stood still for a moment before sinking to the ground. Elizabeth looked wildly about. Markham, his face pale, had managed to pull himself upright, remove the dagger from his own wound and throw it with fatal accuracy.

The man who had stabbed Lorne was hauling himself to his feet. Blood ran down his legs from his initial wound and he shot a malevolent glare towards Elizabeth.

She locked eyes with Markham momentarily. "Run," he whispered, and then fell forward.

Elizabeth fled into the woods as the rain began to fall. Her pursuer bellowed in fury and gave chase.

***  
  
The battle was more brutal than Bates could have anticipated. The men who ambushed them – they were men, only clad in garments intended to make them seem less than human – had fought to their dying breath. The guardsmen had unmasked their last attacker now, and Stackhouse and Carpazin, surging with blood lust from the fight, toyed with him, circling their prey as the man swayed, bleeding everywhere.

Bates surveyed the trampled greenery and red mud. Four of his men lay on the ground, and at least three would not rise again. A full score of assailants also lay cleaved and broken, and yet this last man still stood?

His stomach twisted again and Bates shouted, "Stop!" a bare heartbeat before Stackhouse struck the killing blow.

"Hold him," he ordered, swinging himself onto his horse again and urging the animal to a frantic pace down the road. He had not far to go.

Lorne reached for him even as Bates leapt from his horse, his eyes swiftly taking in the barrier across the road, the two masked men and Markham's too-still form. Lorne grasped his arm, blood appearing over his lips, thinning as the rain washed it away. But his eyes burned and his hand on Bates' arm was still strong.

"He's after the princess," Lorne gritted out.

***  
  
Had her foot not caught, sending her tumbling to the earth, Elizabeth did not know whether she would have ceased running until she reached the far edge of the world.

She did trip, falling onto already bruised knees. The impact jarred her from skull to feet, and her stomach rolled violently. Unable to hold it back, she turned her head as the bile rose in her throat. Images of blood, of Markham's face, of the sword piercing Lorne's body, flashed through her mind and aggravated the sickness until she was retching feebly.

When it ended, her body sank into the muddy ground, her head on her arm, tears running down her face.

More suffering. More death. Always. There seemed to be no escape for her.

Lying there, shaking and soaked and chilled to her marrow, Elizabeth gradually became aware of the tell-tale noise of heavy feet in the brush over the rain. The sound was distant, but even as her heart pounded in her ears, she knew it was coming closer.

She did not know from where she gathered the strength, but her body rose into a huddled crouch. She pushed the thoughts of Markham and Lorne from her mind and glanced about. If only she had some notion of where she was! They had been riding east when the ambush had struck, back towards the palace.

She spotted moss growing along a tree stump. She was not sure what direction she had gone when she fled from the scene of the attack, but to turn east would likely lead her back into the trap she was attempting to escape. If she headed west, she might eventually find the coastal road, and help.

Spring days were short, and though she could not gauge the position of the sun, it was growing rapidly darker. Elizabeth began to move as quietly as she could, holding her torn and filthy skirts gathered back to stifle their rustling. When news of the ambush reached the city, she had no doubt Sir Marshall would rouse every man available to search for her. But there was much ground to cover, and they would have no more idea of her location than she did. And the storm was growing steadily worse, with winds more like a winter gale than a gentle spring rain.

She was not likely to be rescued today. The thought struck her like a physical blow, but she clenched her teeth into her own mouth. She could not afford to be sick again.

Nightfall would be her ally. Though she would no longer be able to run, the man pursuing her would no longer be able to search for her either. She needed to find shelter, and pray that he did not stumble upon her before darkness came.

***  
  
The duke of Langford had known Sir Marshall Sumner the entirety of his life. The captain of the guard had been in the king's service when Daniel had still been a small boy. When Daniel's uncle had died, Sumner's loyalty transferred to Elizabeth, the queen-elect. The old king's final charge to his loyal servant had been Elizabeth's safety – safety which had been threatened in more ways than one in the intervening eight years.

Yet never had Daniel seen Captain Sumner truly enraged until this moment. His jaw was clenched while the rain streaked down his weathered face.

Somewhere deep underneath his own terror and fury, Daniel waited for the captain to unleash his formidable temper on young Bates, who stood before them covered in dirt and blood as they surveyed the scene of the attack.

But Sumner had not reached his position by indulging his personal feelings.

"You will take the entire detachment of the guard and all the soldiers that can be mustered from Atlantis out into these woods, Bates, and you will not sleep, eat or piss until Princess Elizabeth is safely back in the palace. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir," Bates answered immediately. Recriminations would have to wait until a more appropriate time. The young man turned and started bellowing orders of his own to the rest of the guardsmen who were waiting in the lane.

Two of the guards towered over the one would-be attacker still alive. Daniel had sufficient experience with war to know the man was not long for this world. His breaths rattled in his chest and his face was blue as the paint on his arms and clothing.

Sumner unsheathed a small knife from his belt. Even with one arm still in a sling, he radiated menace as he stalked towards the man. Sumner placed the tip of the blade over the man's heart.

"Tell me why, and I will end your suffering," he said, his voice dead of emotion.

The prisoner's breathing hitched and Daniel thought he was attempting to laugh. "... Fetch," the man gasped out the words haltingly. "A... fine... price... for her."

The final word slurred and the man's eyes rolled back as he died.

Sumner turned away in disgust. The guards holding the body dropped it into the mud.

"Ransom?" Daniel asked Sumner as they walked towards their horses. He had to raise his voice to be heard above the wind. A wagon creaked along the road, arriving to take the critically injured guards, including Lorne, back to Atlantis.

"Or worse," Sumner said curtly. "The princess has been taking morning rides regularly for some weeks. Enough for an observer to note a pattern." Daniel recognized that the captain was silently berating himself for his own carelessness.

Unfortunately, Daniel had little energy within him to offer comfort. Elizabeth was missing, with heaven only knew how many of these villains chasing her. She was alone, possibly hurt and lost. If they could not find her swiftly...

But there was one tiny source of hope. "They'll want her alive, then?" he asked.

"Alive-" Sumner stopped speaking abruptly.

Daniel knew full well what Sumner had been about to say, and he was grateful that the other man did not give voice to the fear that was now nearly a living thing inside of him.

***

Elizabeth had long loved the soothing sound of waves breaking on the shore. Of course, she had always appreciated the noise while safely within the walls of Atlantis, where there were soft beds and warm blankets, hot food and clean water at hand. At the moment, she was searching vainly for some hiding place as the shadows deepened around her. She was within hearing distance of the ocean surf, which unfortunately meant the land was very flat, providing few spaces in which to conceal a person.

She could no longer hear thrashing footsteps in the distance. There was only the wind and rain in her ears. The absence of the sounds of pursuit only served to augment her fear. Her body shook from the chill in the air and her thoroughly soaked clothing.

Elizabeth looked up in frustration, wishing fervently for Laura's ability to climb about on trees and walls.

Before she could decide whether to attempt the maneuver, a branch snapped behind her. She whirled around and found herself face to face with her pursuer.

The man looked almost mad. His eyes burned, red-rimmed and heavy, and he lurched unevenly. Elizabeth saw that his trousers were soaked with blood. The only thing about him that remained steady was his sword, which was held out and pointed straight at her.

They stood face to face for a moment. Elizabeth's heart was racing, her mind spinning frantically. She held her own dagger – she had not had the presence of mind earlier to draw it but it had been clutched in her hand the entire afternoon. Dimly she wondered if she possessed the strength to attempt to fight him off. With his injuries, his skills would be compromised-

"Down!" she heard a voice yell. A voice that sounded far too feminine to have come from her attacker.

Elizabeth dropped to the ground just in time to avoid being hit by the heavy rock sailing through the air. Her assailant didn't appear to sense the impending attack, for the rock struck the man in the face with a sickening crunch and he staggered backwards.

A woman darted out of the shadows and flashed past Elizabeth. She held two heavy sticks and she knocked the sword from the man's hands, then swept his knees from under him. In a heartbeat, she was kneeling, one stick pressed across the man's throat.

"Where are the rest?" the woman growled.

He reached for the stick, but both his hands together could not move it.

"Where is the rest of your raiding party? Are they already at the village?"

"What?" the man gasped out.

For the first time, the woman faltered slightly. "Where is your ship?" she demanded.

She had pulled the heavy stick away but the man began to gag even harder and Elizabeth, swaying back to her feet, saw blood bubbling on his lips. "No ship," he choked out even as his face turned blue. "Horses."

He blindly reached out toward the woman, who stepped backwards.

The two of them watched impassively as he strangled and died.

Elizabeth startled when a warm hand touched her arm. She turned and looked into the face of her rescuer. She was young, not far from Elizabeth's own age, with darker skin, lighter hair and a face of such stark beauty it reminded Elizabeth of a hawk. That was all the detail Elizabeth was able to take in before the world began to spin. She managed to whisper one question: "Where am I?"

"You are in Athos, my lady. I am Teyla Emmagan, daughter of Lord Tagan."

Everything about Elizabeth went black.

***

Daniel wished pointlessly that Jack would appear by some kind of magic. Logically he knew his old friend could do no more to locate Elizabeth than Sumner and the combined forces of the royal guard and the infantry stationed in Atlantis, but Jack also had a habit of divining solutions to otherwise insurmountable problems.

Also Jack could always be useful as a sparring partner when Daniel was angry.

Instead, Daniel paced the length of the private audience chamber while he waited for Lord George, who was speaking with the regent of Atalan. Judging by the expression on the older man's face when he entered, that interview had gone precisely as well as Daniel had expected.

Lord George sighed. "Lord Robert expresses his deepest alarm at the situation," he told Daniel without prompting, pouring a large glass of wine for himself after offering one to Daniel. "He did, however, agree to Sir Marshall's request that her Highness' disappearance and the intended ransom demand remain secret."

Captain Sumner's request, carried back to the city by Daniel while Sumner insisted on remaining with the men to search through the terrible weather, had run contrary to every instinct Daniel possessed. He would have spread the news far and wide, hoping that Elizabeth would be spotted sooner. But even Daniel admitted Sumner was correct. Elizabeth was, so far as they knew, alone and vulnerable out in the storm with at least one man already after her. To announce such a thing would be to invite all manner of rogues and miscreants to hunt for her in hopes of claiming a reward themselves.

Daniel did not falter from his pacing the room. "And the army?"

Lord George nodded. "He agreed to that as well."

That piece of information finally halted Daniel's wanderings. He had fully expected the regent to protest the removal of the army encampment from Atlantis. The city would be vulnerable without the company of soldiers.

Lord George sat down in one of the chairs, pointedly not looking at the empty dais where Elizabeth's usual seat was waiting. "If he orchestrated the kidnapping, he is concealing it well. He gave every appearance of desiring the princess' safe return."

Daniel looked towards the large windows. It was past sunset by now. Sumner and his men remained in the woods searching, but the darkness would slow their progress even further. They were not likely to find Elizabeth this night.

And with the winds howling across the land, it was uncertain whether Elizabeth could survive until morning.

***  
  
Teyla settled herself at the table in Charin's kitchen with Halling as they came in from the vicious storm. Teyla resumed the conversation they had been carrying before the storm had silenced them.

"You are certain?"

Halling, who was some years older than herself and significantly taller than anyone else in the village, nodded. "He was no Wraith, just a man using their appearances to conceal himself. But even his clothing was not correct for a Wraith."

Teyla thought rapidly. The Wraith usually attacked the villages in the dawn and dusk. To stumble across one Wraith alone in the middle of the afternoon molesting a young lady in the woods had startled Teyla deeply. But his inability to answer the most straightforward questions had confused her. After securing the young lady in the village, she had returned to the site and had the body brought to Halling, who had inspected the remains. He agreed with her. The man was not a Wraith.

Which did not mean the young lady had not become entangled in something dangerous. Or that the Wraith would not attack this night, though the fierce winds would make landing their ships treacherous at best. Ironically, the foul weather would make them slightly more secure.

Charin entered the kitchen, undisturbed to find them there. Teyla craned her neck as the old woman puttered about her stove. "How is our guest?"

"She is sleeping now," Charin answered. "I gave her some broth and got her out of her wet things. I think it best we let her rest her fill. The poor thing looks to have seen a trying day."

Teyla thought of the blood and dirt spattered on the fine clothing. "Have we any idea who she is?"

"There was a report of an ambush on the road today," Halling said. "A party escorting a young girl of a well-born family was attacked."

"It is likely she was headed for Atlantis, or had just departed it," Teyla said. "My father returns tomorrow, does he not?" At Halling's nod of confirmation, she added, "Unless the storm breaks in the night, we will wait until he arrives before attempting to return her to Atlantis."

***

Carson Beckett sat down wearily in the far corner of the sickroom. Two of the guardsmen had been critically injured the previous day. One had died on the journey back to the castle, joining their three comrades who had fallen during the ambush.

Marcus Lorne, however, clung stubbornly to life. Carson was grateful for the young man's strength. Without it he would not have lasted this long, though Carson had been at his side the entire evening. At times Carson felt almost as though he were willing the man to live with every pulse of his own heart.

It was past midnight now. If Lorne survived the night, he would be out of the worst of the danger.

Carson watched as Lady Katherine sat by Lorne's bedside. She carefully dipped a cloth in cool water and wiped the fever sweat from Lorne's face and body. He had been tending to his patient himself but Kate offered to sit with the young man for a while so that Carson could rest.

He'd noted since his arrival in Atlantis last fall that Lorne had a quick tongue and a flirtatious eye. Heaven knew, Carson had heard Lady Laura and Lorne exchanging words that brought a blush to Carson's own face. But he had noted a greater gentleness on the handsome young man's part toward Kate. He had also seen how the young lady strove to appear unaffected by his attentions, but not with perfect success.

He doubted anyone had noticed this but himself, and Kate's disposition was such that he was certain mentioning it aloud would only add to her discomfort.

He did not suspect, however, that Kate's willingness to tend to the injured man was borne solely out of any kind of secret affections. The entire sanctuary of Atlantis seemed to be holding its breath. The corridors were full of restless servants even as the storm lashed at the walls outside. It was as if the very stones in the castle were waiting for news.

Carson could not bring himself to contemplate that the princess was gone. That such a beautiful, vivid young lady, with so much natural grace and a fiery nature that could not be concealed by all the courtly polish in the world, could be taken from them so cruelly seemed unfathomable. But his profession had shown him, over and over, that the world could be unconscionably cruel at times.

His body was weary but his mind was unable to settle, so he got up and decided to request some food from the kitchens, both for himself and for Kate. He opened the door to find Laura returning.

"My lady," he said quietly, stepping into the corridor and closing the door behind him. "I thought I sent you to rest."

Laura folded her arms about herself. "I tried, but I could not sleep."

Her grief-stricken face hurt him deeply. She was such a spirited lady, and to see her forthright nature so doused felt entirely unnatural.

"I can't stop thinking about her, out there in those strange forests alone. What if she is injured? What if she is waiting to be found out there in the darkness by herself? With a storm such as this raging?"

Tears were welling in her eyes, and Carson could no more have stood there and done nothing than he could have stopped breathing. Regardless of the impropriety, he pulled Laura into his arms and she leaned heavily into his support, her face pressed against his chest.

"Hush, love, don't say such things," he soothed. "Our princess is a strong lady." His own doubts and worries were too close to the surface to offer any false promises. "She'll not give up, so neither shall we."

Laura sighed, and Carson kissed the top of her head quickly, entirely without thinking about it. The lady did not appear insulted, as she wrapped her fingers in his shirt and held on to him.


	2. Chapter 2

Elizabeth woke and looked about her stupidly. She had heard someone crying, she was sure of it. Her mind cleared and she realized she had been dreaming of trying to reach someone she could hear in distress. It was only a dream, except that she could still hear the noise.

The shutters on the house rattled. The storm outside, the wind keening around the house... that was the source of the sound. The weather had not cleared in the night.

The events of the previous day came back to her; the attack, her terrified flight through the woods, Athos. She was in the capital of Athos, on the mainland.

She looked around the small room. Her own gown was lying across the seat of a worn chair. The dress was filthy and past mending. But draped across the back of the chair was another dress, dark-colored and made of rough homespun thread. Still, it was clean and whole.

It took some time before Elizabeth could gather her will enough to get up and dress herself, though. At the least, within these four walls she could pretend to be safe. She had no way to gauge what waited for her downstairs.

Her stomach grumbled, protesting the lack of food, and she gave in.

Elizabeth rose from the bed gingerly. Her body was covered with bruises of various sizes and she ached with each movement.

She managed to tidy herself with water from the pitcher and basin on the table. The old woman must have provided them, the dress and the brush Elizabeth found. She combed through her hair and braided it as neatly as she could manage on her own. She had nothing to tie the braid with. She looked at her ruined gown and reached down and tore a strip of fabric from the underside and used that to secure her hair.

Thankful she had worn heavy shoes, even though they had slowed her speed the day before, Elizabeth composed herself as best she could and headed downstairs.

The old woman she dimly remembered from the night before was bustling about her kitchen. Seated at the table, working diligently on what appeared to be mending, was Elizabeth's rescuer. The younger woman – Lady Teyla, the only child and heir of the Earl of Athos, she remembered – noticed Elizabeth first.

"My lady, good morning," Teyla said, nodding politely. "I trust you slept well?" There was a momentary flicker of embarrassment as she realized that it was highly unlikely Elizabeth could have slept easily after her ordeal of the day before.

The slight doubt made Elizabeth warm to Teyla, even in the face of her remaining seated when Elizabeth appeared.

Charin urged Elizabeth to the table. "Come, my dear. There is fresh bread." Elizabeth sat, taking the brown bread and tearing off a large piece. Charin offered her a large mug of strong tea and Elizabeth chewed her bread and listened as the two women talked.

It took several minutes for the truth to sink in. These people had no idea who she was.

Uncertain whether this was a positive or negative development, she finished the bread. Once the food was gone, Teyla set down her work and fixed Elizabeth with a look.

"My lady, might I have the honor of knowing the name of the person whose life I saved?" The smile that accompanied the request was intended to put Elizabeth at ease, she knew, before the more difficult questions which were sure to follow.

She parted her lips, hesitated a moment, and then answered, "Margaret." She gave no title with her mother's name, nor any surname. Though she did not suspect these people of having any malicious intent, it seemed wiser to stay silent until she was sure of reaching Atlantis.

Teyla nodded. "Can you tell me what happened yesterday?"

Elizabeth sipped her tea and told the two women an abbreviated version of the previous day, leaving out the mention that her escort had been members of the royal guard, but explaining how she had come to be wandering in the forests alone.

Teyla looked thoughtful. "Halling was correct. These men were not Wraith."

"Wraith?" Elizabeth gasped, startled. "I thought the Wraith were a myth."

Teyla and Charin both looked grave. "I'm afraid not, child," Charin said. "The Wraith are very real. They have been the plague of our lives for long years, though their presence has been far worse since the Ori left us in ruins."

"The Wraith attacked one of the western settlements three days ago," Teyla added. "My father, Lord Tagan, went to provide what aid we could offer."

Elizabeth's stomach was churning unpleasantly. She had been told by her tutors and even Lord George that the Wraith no longer truly existed. Some pirates in the open waters away from Atlantis were said to use the guise to frighten the people in the villages on the shores, but that was all. Yet her mind could conjure no reason why Teyla or Charin would be lying.

"Do you need to return to your room, dear? You look pale," Charin lifted Elizabeth's chin with a finger, looking at her critically.

"No, I thank you. I am quite well. Only grieved to hear of this suffering." The words came out unbidden, and Elizabeth realized she could not afford to sound quite so... royal if her identity was to remain undiscovered.

Teyla looked pleased by her comments, however. "We expect my father to return later today, though I fear the storm will delay him. I'm also afraid we have no means of returning you to Atlantis until the storm abates. It is nearly a day's journey on foot."

"You have no horses?" Elizabeth asked, surprised.

"There are a few that the Wraith have not taken, but they are needed to prepare the ground for crops as soon as the rain ceases," Charin said with a slightly reproving tone in her voice.

Elizabeth nodded, though her heart rebelled. For a moment she nearly spoke out, wanting to demand that she be returned to the safety of familiar ground immediately. But curiosity, and the continued noise of the wind outside, steadied her. She then glanced at the pile of mending in the basket. "Then perhaps I could make myself useful while I wait?"

"That is not necessary," Teyla began but Elizabeth shook her head.

"You have taken me in, provided me with food and clothing." Items which, it appeared, they could barely afford to part with, Elizabeth thought but did not say aloud. She detected a strong undercurrent of pride, especially in Lady Teyla, that she suspected would find reminders of such things unwelcome. "And you saved my life yesterday. The least I can do is not sit idle and watch you work."

After glancing at Charin, Teyla said, "Very well," with a small smile.

***

Athos, as Elizabeth remembered from her history lessons, was one of the more important territories within Atalan. As the gatekeeper of the sole land access to Atlantis, the territory had been well protected and well supplied for generations. The nobility who ruled there had always been treated with great respect and deference, even though the shire of Athos was not as rich or as large as the duchy of Langford. She dimly recalled meeting the Earl and Countess of Athos when she was very young, but she had not socialized with the nobility of Atalan for many years, and being barred from meetings of the college of lords, she had not seen Lord Tagan since then.

When the rain eased and the wind faded in mid-afternoon, Teyla escorted Elizabeth as they walked through the main village. She saw first hand how much had changed. Looking at the ruins of what had once been a large, formidable fortress that had housed the ruling family of Athos and sheltered their people, Elizabeth felt a fury rising within her that made her head spin.

Why were these people not being cared for? Why was aid not being sent from Atlantis to rebuild the defenses? How could the security of Athos not be a significant priority for the entire realm?

And why had she not been told of this situation? The queen-elect should not have believed the Wraith were a mere fairy-tale when her own subjects were being killed by those monsters.

Elizabeth asked as many questions as she dared to without raising suspicion. Thankfully, Teyla seemed to divine her desire for information and provided it fully. Elizabeth learned that the fortress had been destroyed by the Ori. Athos had lacked the resources to rebuild it, and promises of assistance from Atlantis had been delayed first by the war and the general ruin of the realm by the Ori armies, and then by the neglect of Lord Robert Kinsey.

When Teyla began to speak of the regent, a hardness swept her lovely face. Elizabeth had difficulty reigning in her native sympathy on the subject. It appeared that Lord Tagan and his daughter shared Jack's opinion of the regent, to the point that Lord Tagan had almost ceased attending meetings of the college of lords entirely.

Near sunset, scouts were sent out from the village to keep watch for signs of a Wraith attack. Seated near the large fire in the main village hall, Elizabeth listened to Teyla's invective against Lord Robert. It was both strange and comforting. She thought of Lord George, Sir Marshall and Daniel with a pang. Though the weather had cleared, it was too late in the day to start for the city. Elizabeth suspected there would be soldiers patrolling the roads, looking for her, but to explain that they would recognize her would betray her secret, so she remained silent.

Some part of her was also enjoying being only another well-born lady, rather than the princess. While Teyla had been arranging the sentries with Halling, Elizabeth had wandered the village for a time by herself. With the storm abated, people were stepping outside their homes. Men moved through fields and small gardens, while women prepared food. Elizabeth watched a number of children playing with some sort of leather ball, racing back and forth despite periodic scoldings from mothers about avoiding the mud.

In the face of her earlier fury, Elizabeth was comforted to see that these people valiantly continued to live despite the threat that hung over them. She walked through the village slowly, drinking in the sounds and sights undisturbed.

Never, in all the years she could remember, had she been completely alone like that. The freedom of it was almost too sweet to bear, even though she knew it was bought at the expense of the frantic worry that must be going on about her at home. She salved her conscience with the thought that they would start for Atlantis first thing in the morning.

Her happy wanderings had been cut short by Charin, who had summoned Elizabeth to help her with the evening meal. Her occasional interest in the kitchen of the palace had in no way prepared Elizabeth to do more than fetch and carry, much to Charin's dismay. Elizabeth heard several mutterings that suggested she "had no more skill at a stove than young Teyla."

Talk around the table as the evening meal wound down moved from Kinsey to a different subject, one that startled Elizabeth: herself.

"Our hopes must remain with the young princess," Halling said in response to Teyla's ranting about the regent of Atalan. "In less than three years, she will take the throne."

"We have no guarantee she will serve Athos any better than the regent," put in a young man whose name Elizabeth had not caught. "Besides which, I have heard stories of her," he added with a dismissive wave of the hand.

Elizabeth could not restrain herself. "What stories have you heard, young master?"

Something in her face must have alerted the youth to her displeasure, but he answered. "They say she is simple-minded, and that is the reason she is kept sequestered in the castle and allowed few visitors and never seen by her own people."

Elizabeth bristled, opening her mouth to demand just who the "they" were that spread such vicious slanders about herself. Teyla spoke before Elizabeth could. "I do not believe there is a speck of truth in those rumors," she said decisively. "The princess is descended from generations of wise rulers, and she has surely been educated by the best tutors available."

"Then why do they not parade her through the kingdom so that we may see it for ourselves?" the young man responded.

Teyla's glare was withering. "I should think the suspicious death of her new husband last fall was answer enough. My father says-"

"Your father says what?" a new voice interrupted. A tall man with deeply tanned skin and an even more deeply lined face stood near the doorway, shaking out his cloak.

Everyone in the hall stood, including Teyla, who hurried forward with a smile. "Father! Welcome back." The two embraced tightly for a moment.

He hooked an arm around her shoulders and approached the table, saying teasingly: "Now, what exactly had you profaning my name..."

The words trailed off as he stared at Elizabeth in shock. She had no idea what to do or say. Lord Tagan opened his mouth in surprise and then snapped it shut harshly.

Teyla drew away, looking confused. "Father, this is Lady Margaret-"

She got no further. He held up a hand and looked from Elizabeth to Teyla with one swift glance. "Come with me, both of you."

Feeling rather like she was being called before Lord George for a scolding, Elizabeth avoided Teyla's bewildered look and followed to a small, private room.

Once the door was closed, Tagan swung about and looked at her intensely. "Your Highness?" he asked quietly.

With a small sigh of regret, Elizabeth nodded. She shot a guilty look at Teyla.

"I thought so. You have your father's eyes, my lady. Pardon my bluntness, but what in the name of the ancestors are you doing here?"

Elizabeth hastily explained. Tagan looked horror-stricken as she described the attack on the guard and the chase through the woods. "When I awoke this morning, my identity appeared to be unknown. Given what had happened, I thought it prudent not to announce myself until I was safely back among my own guard." Elizabeth looked at Teyla apologetically. The young woman's face was drawn, but Elizabeth hoped there was a glint of sympathy in her brown eyes. She might be forgiven the deception in time.

"I can well understand your caution, Highness, though I am certain you would be safe among my people."

"I meant no offense to you, my lord, or to the Athosian people. You have long been of vital importance to the safety of Atalan-" Elizabeth answered, before she trailed off, her cheeks growing pink. There was no need to lecture the Earl of Athos on his own importance.

Tagan smiled grimly. "Indeed, Princess. I am relieved to see you are aware of history. I would expect no less from your father's daughter."

Curiosity burned within Elizabeth. "Did you know him, Lord Tagan?"

He nodded. "The king was a good man, and a good friend." He drifted to some private place Elizabeth felt herself loath to disturb.

Tagan returned to the present with a slight shake. "Perhaps at some future time your Highness will allow me to share my remembrances of her honored father. For now, I am morally certain that Captain Sumner will have the whole of Atalan's army searching for you. We should restore you to his safe-keeping with all speed."

He had barely finished speaking when there was a knock upon the door. "My lord? Your presence is needed in the square."

The three of them hastened from the room. As soon as they were out-of-doors, Elizabeth heard a familiar voice.

"We are looking for a young woman who was lost on the road outside of Atlantis yesterday," Captain Sumner was calling to the assembled crowd from the back of his horse. "She ran on foot from a group of men who attacked her party. She may have come in this direction-"

"Rest easy, Captain," Tagan bellowed, the crowd parting to make a path between him and the soldiers. "I believe I have what you are looking for."

Elizabeth stepped around Tagan, into the light. Murmuring began in the crowd as Sir Marshall leapt from his horse. "Your Highness," he said, approaching her and stopping close enough for her to feel him swaying with tiredness. Close-up she could see that his face was haggard with exhaustion and worry. His eyes, however, bored into hers. "Are you all right?"

"I am fine, thank you, Captain." The revelation of her identity was causing the crowd to grow even louder and Sumner looked about them unpleasantly. Elizabeth was all too familiar with his disposition. Before he could speak, she added loudly, "These people took me in last night, provided me with shelter, food and clothing. This was after Lady Teyla, Lord Tagan's daughter, saved my life in the forest."

Sumner's eyes widened as he looked at Teyla. Elizabeth could just imagine his thoughts on the slip of a girl acting as Elizabeth's protector. Teyla was after all significantly smaller than, say, Marcus Lorne.

That thought made her heart choke in her throat and she lowered her voice as Sumner steered her away from the crowd. "Captain, several of the men were injured in the attack..."

He paused. "We lost four of them, including Markham."

"Master Lorne?" she asked, not quite daring to hope.

"He lives. Beckett can't say how well he'll recover yet."

Elizabeth breathed a deep sigh of relief. Lorne had been a personal favorite of hers since his arrival in her service. It was enough for now to know he survived.

"We should return you to the city, Highness, and allow the good doctor to examine you."

She nodded, but when he would have urged her towards the horses she pulled back and turned to Tagan and Teyla. "My lord, Lady Teyla, I am in both your debt and the debt of your people. I shall not forget that Lady Teyla has saved my life, or that the Athosians opened their homes to me and cared for a stranger out of sheer compassion with no expectation of reward."

There was a breathless excitement to the crowd now, and all eyes were fixed on her. She wished she could speak further, assure them that their welfare would be foremost on her mind from this day until she was finally in a position to do something material to aid them. But she would not make them false promises.

"Would you both do me the honor of visiting Atlantis in two days' time?" she asked instead.

"We would be most honored, your Highness," Tagan said with a bow.

Elizabeth smiled. "I shall have horses sent for your use." Sumner shifted next to her but Elizabeth ignored it. "I know this is a busy time and you can ill afford to be absent for more than a day."

Teyla smiled at her and Tagan bowed again. "Your Highness is most considerate."

Halling assisted Elizabeth in climbing on the horse one of the soldiers had offered up for her use. She thanked him and waited as the enormous man then assisted Sumner back onto his horse. The captain's arm was no longer in its sling, but Elizabeth doubted the broken bones had miraculously healed themselves in just two days.

They started out of the village, so she never was certain who began the cry behind them. "Hail Elizabeth, Princess of Atalan!"

There was a loud chorus of cheers and she was grateful for the chill air against her face to explain the tears that began to run down her cheeks.

***

Elizabeth had not been hugged so much in her life as she was during the first hour after her return to Atlantis. She had expected Laura and Kate to come flying at her and cling to her in relief. Daniel's embrace, strong enough to strangle her breath, had not been unanticipated. But even Lord George's staid demeanor broke sufficiently to wrap his arms about her and hold her tightly for a moment. Carson expressed his relief by fussing over her inordinately as he examined her injuries.

Seeing the fatigue in all of them, Elizabeth told her tale as they ate a hastily prepared supper, minimizing her own fear and hurt for their sakes.

"You were very fortunate, Highness, that this Lady Teyla arrived when she did," Lord George observed.

Elizabeth nodded. She looked at Lord George and Daniel, and Sumner who insisted on standing near the door as they ate. "I heard some information from the Athosians that has me curious." Her voice was as neutral as she could make it, but she recognized the instant tension in the three men. Abandoning subtlety, her voice went dangerously soft. "Why did you tell me the Wraith were no more than a fairy tale?"

Daniel blinked. "Cousin, the Wraith are a myth. There are pirate bands that use the legends of the Wraith to strike fear into the hearts of the simple-minded, but they are few."

"Lady Teyla and her father say otherwise," Elizabeth said, curious to see how they reacted.

Lord George, unsurprisingly, blustered a bit. "I would not take it upon myself to dispute the lady's word, Highness, but is it not likely she has been misinformed?"

"By her own father?" Elizabeth retorted. "Lord Tagan was not in the village when I arrived because he was visiting one of the western settlements. It had been attacked and plundered by the Wraith two days previously. Did we not hear of this?"

Her eyes shifted to Sumner, whose face darkened. But he answered honestly, "No, your Highness."

"My people are being slaughtered by barbarians, our coast is defenseless, and yet nothing is being done about it?" she snapped, anger getting the better of her.

"Cousin," Daniel protested. "You know full well the extent of Lord Robert's control of the military expenditure. We simply do not have the resources-"

"Of course not!" she bellowed, rising abruptly. The others scrambled to their feet. "What seems not to have occurred to any of you is that Lord Robert, for all his political power, did not in fact chart the course of the sun across the skies! He can and must be opposed, by whatever means are available."

"Highness," Lord George asked worriedly. "I do not know what you believe we have the capacity to do..."

"Our capacity is only limited by our own will, Lord George," Elizabeth said harshly. She regretted showing the edge of her temper immediately as he looked away. She reminded herself that the last two days had possibly been worse for them than they had been for her.

"What is it you wish, Elizabeth?" Daniel asked quietly, gently steering the conversation to a more personal tone.

"I hardly know," Elizabeth answered, rubbing her forehead. "I do know that our present course will no longer suffice. I understand your collective impulse to shield me." She glanced at Lord George, who seemed to recognize the unspoken apology. "Believe me, the past two days have been a thorough education on that score. However, by protecting me so carefully, I begin to wonder if you have not left me vulnerable in an entirely different fashion."

She sighed as Daniel and Lord George looked bewildered at one another, while she thought of the rumors, no doubt circulated by Kinsey or his supporters, of her own feebleness. But that information would keep until the morrow.

Kate, who was at her right side, said in a voice barely above a whisper, "My lady." The accompanying look was sufficient and Elizabeth nodded minutely.

"It grows late and I find myself extremely tired. We shall speak of this another time, perhaps the day after next, when Lord Tagan and Lady Teyla will arrive." Without waiting to see their reaction to that announcement, she walked to the door. "Good night, my lords."

***

Elizabeth had resigned herself to confining her morning exercise to walking the perimeter of Atlantis for the foreseeable future. Captain Sumner would not soon allow her beyond the towering walls of the sanctuary. She walked along the shore, staring across the water in the direction of the Athosian village, deep in thought for some time. Finally she sighed and turned back towards the palace.

Sumner walked on one side of her, Bates on the other. Though she was not in the mood to talk just now, she found herself already longing for the day when Lorne returned to his duties. Carson believed the young man would recover fully in due time. She didn't envy Lorne being under Carson's relentless supervision for the next several months, knowing from personal experience how unmovable the doctor could be when a patient's welfare was at stake.

When Elizabeth had visited Lorne in the sick room the previous afternoon to thank him, she had the amused satisfaction of seeing the sturdy guardsman blush like a woman at her gratitude and praises.

Daniel had exploded into quite a temper when she had repeated the rumors being spread about herself among the populace. Lord George, as expected, was angry as well. But for the first time, he did not dismiss Elizabeth with assurances the situation would be dealt with. Instead, he invited her opinion on the matter.

She had less success on the subject of the realm's defenses. Elizabeth hoped that perhaps meeting Lord Tagan themselves would persuade them. If that failed, she would wait until Jack returned from his winter spent on his own estates and overseeing the far defenses of Atalan, along the border with the Goa'uld-held territories.

It was nearing midday when a puzzled servant appeared to report that two people who claimed to be invited were requesting an audience with the princess. Elizabeth briefly upbraided the servant and hastened to greet her visitors. She had sent an escort with two horses at dawn to collect Tagan and Teyla. Unbeknownst to them or to Lord George or Daniel, Elizabeth had ordered the horses be left at day's end with the Athosians. Her horse-master had looked surprised, but did not argue, and she felt certain he would not question a direct request from the princess.

The midday meal was a lively one. Lord Tagan appeared to remember Captain Sumner and Lord George of old, and Elizabeth heard a fair number of stories about her father that both stunned and delighted her, not to mention hints from Tagan of certain tales of Sumner's younger days that had Laura fairly dancing with curiosity. Meanwhile, Teyla and Kate seemed to take to one another almost instantly.

Elizabeth was most pleased with the company, but as the last of the dishes was removed, she folded her hands upon the table and turned a serious eye toward her guests. A silence fell in the room and everyone looked to her expectantly.

"Lord Tagan, tell me of the Wraith."


End file.
